


Who has breakfast in the bath?

by mypassionfortrash



Series: Roger Taylor fics and one-shots [35]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, So fluffy it'll rot your teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypassionfortrash/pseuds/mypassionfortrash
Summary: Roger leaves for tour not long after you start living together...
Relationships: Roger Taylor (Queen)/Reader
Series: Roger Taylor fics and one-shots [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1221674
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Who has breakfast in the bath?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a wee short one because I was inspired in between working god knows how many jobs.

The light in the hall snapped on at the same second as his bags hit the floor. You could see the shadow of him on the wall in front of you, kicking off his shoes at the threshold. The clink of his belt buckle and the leather slipping through the loops. The soft ‘it’s good to be home’ sound as he hastily readied himself for bed.

It had been a long six months. You would have been lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t still annoyed about the way you and Roger parted before he left for yet another tour.

Even now as the bed dipped behind you and the faint waft of his cologne mixed with smoke drifted into your consciousness, your insides coiled up in apprehension. He wouldn’t dare wake you. And you pretended you didn’t notice.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you woke up. A slender arm slung around your waist. Or wisps dirty blonde hair grazing your shoulder. His breath on your neck. But disappointment took hold when you realised you were completely and utterly alone.

Was it all a dream? Did he actually come back to you during the night?

Draping your legs over the edge of the bed, your shoulders dropped with a sigh.

“That bad?”

The voice from the doorway made you jump out of your skin. You turned around. Were your eyes deceiving you? You squinted harder. The tails of his hair had grown out. He looked frail and tired. But still as endearing as ever. “You’re home.”

“I’m home.” Roger gave you a coy smile and plopped himself down beside you. His lips inverted as he mulled over his next move. “You were out cold when I… I didn’t want to wake you and–“

“It’s fine,” you said, pushing your finger to his mouth to shush him.

His eyes sucked up all the light in the room, shimmering away with hope. “You’re not still mad?”

“I’m livid.”

“Oh,” Roger said.

“I wish I’d told you I was sorry before you left,” you explained, pulling him into a hug. His bony shoulders loosened into the embrace.

“I promise I won’t leave my hair in the plughole again.”

“I mean, we hadn’t even lived together that long. We were bound to argue it’s just–“

Roger broke away and held you out by your shoulders. “Bad timing?”

“Yeah. And you haven’t even seen my bad habits yet.”

Roger raised an eyebrow. “Like you have bad habits.”

“I have so, so many.”

“Well,” he began, grinning from ear to ear, “I’m not going anywhere for a whole bloody year now. Plenty of time to house train you.”

You leaned forward, giggling against his collarbone. “I hope you’ve been on your best behaviour, Mr Taylor.”

Roger swept you into another bone-crusher of a hug. “I believe the News of the World might have a few photos of me in a strip club,” he explained, rocking you in his arms. “But if you look really closely, you’ll see that my hands are in my pockets and my gaze was wholly averted. I promise.”

“As long as you park it in the right garage, I don’t care.”

“I love you,” he hummed, kissing your hair. “I’m assuming we’ve already got plans today?”

“Breakfast?” you asked, gazing up at him. “Preferably in the bath, because you kind of stink.”

You heard him sigh. “Darling,” he began, pulling away from you again. “What kind of heathen eats in the bath?”

“Give me twenty minutes, and you too can be a heathen!”

He chuckled and got to his feet. He looked at you and shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

“You take care of the bath, and I’ll do the eggs and the bacon.”

“Sure,” he said, almost sprinting towards the bathroom. “Don’t moan when you’re cleaning egg yolk off the lino, then!”

“Joke’s on you, Roggie! I’m buying you some marigolds later on. I seem to remember you look lovely in them!”


End file.
